


Here and Now

by LokiNeedsHugs1031



Series: Stucky Ficlets [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Crying, Crying Bucky Barnes, Crying Steve Rogers, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Fix-It, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, I will always fix this shit, Idiots in Love, M/M, Making Love, Men Crying, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Endgame, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Romantic Fluff, Steve Rogers Feels, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:31:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiNeedsHugs1031/pseuds/LokiNeedsHugs1031
Summary: Bucky has always tried to take care of Steve, past and present. They don't call it ''till the end of the line' for nothing.





	Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> These ficlets keep popping into my head. Fixing the relationship between Steve and Bucky seems to be many, many people's goals and that is mine as well. I don't know when I'll ever be over it le sigh, so I will keep writing! I hope you like!

            **_1944_**

 

            It wasn’t the first time that Bucky would find him in an alley and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time. He heard the tell-tale grunt of Steve throwing fists, uselessly he knew, but throwing them nonetheless. Bucky didn’t think twice, tossed his hat and barreled into the alleyway, it was three guys, not what he was expecting. Steve really chose his battle this time and it might have been one that not even Bucky could handle.

            “Hey, assholes,” he growled, his voice echoing off the brick, thankfully enough to obviously startle them, “Get the fuck out of here or I got no qualms on laying you all out. God, he’s just a kid!”

            “I’m not a fucking kid!” Steve’s voice rang, breaking through the obvious tension and Bucky felt his blood pressure skyrocket.

            “Little shit is nosing in where he shouldn’t be, he had it coming,” one particularly gruff man snapped, he shoved Steve down, easily toppling him over several trashcans. Bucky saw red. He went blind with rage and soon enough all he could hear were the pattering boots of the men scrambling to get out of the alleyway.

            “Bucky, Buck, stop, hey!” Steve’s voice rang through, breaking away from the rage.

            Bucky righted himself, finally realizing that he had a hold of both of Steve’s shoulders, “Are you okay?!” he shouted, and Steve flinched, but he was mad, not only at the thugs that he’d had to run away but the recklessness that was simply Steve. But here he stood, uniform feeling tight and too hot and there Steve stood, lip bloodied, cut above his eyes and looking as though he were ready to fall down.

            Suddenly Bucky realized that, just in the smallest way, Steve wasn’t only worried but afraid. All the anger that had been building, had burst, began to wane, he looked down at his hands, the blood there, spattered. The remnants of the animals that had cornered Steve in such a way had Bucky stopping completely.

            “Baby, what are you doing?” Bucky snapped, and once more Steve flinched. He caught himself, looking around and making sure they were out of earshot of any onlookers, “Those three could have killed you. Fucking easily too!”

            Steve shrank back, only in the slightest and held one hand to his mouth, hiding away the blood he knew was there. “Buck, I’m sorry but there was this girl….”

            “There’s always a girl, or a dog, or a cat, or anything…” he stopped himself and blew out a breath that sent a fog into the air.

            “Sorry…” Steve began again.

            “Come on, let’s just get home,” Bucky exhaled roughly, worry settling in fiercely. “Jesus, you’re a mess.”

            Steve nodded, blond hair flopping over his brow in a way that defined the age between them, yeah only a couple years but in times like this it seemed to matter the most.

            Thankfully they were only a couple blocks from home and soon enough Bucky had Steve in their kitchen, settled in a chair and pressing ice wrapped in a thin towel to his face while he searched for bandages.

            “You’re gonna have a black eye for sure,” Bucky groused, “I’m away for two days, and you pull this? Christ Stevie, I thought we were gonna have a nice dinner, actually relax and give me a chance to rest up before I get shipped out.”

            It was everything that was wrong. All at the wrong time and all the wrong words he knew, because Steve’s much too blue eyes, albeit one of them swollen, filled up quickly with tears. It wasn’t goddamn fair, Bucky thought, cause Steve got his way a lot of the time with those eyes. Now was no different, if he wanted guilt, he was getting guilt. Because Bucky suddenly felt sick with it.

            Steve had pulled the ice away at this point, wringing one corner of the towel between his fingers causing droplets of water to hit the worn tile. “I didn’t mean to ruin things Buck, but there…they were there…and she couldn’t… and I just couldn’t walk away…what if-what if they tried…it was getting dark!”

            Bucky slid the chair closer, “Okay, okay, shhh, honey, shhh, I get it, alright? I get it, don’t work yourself up more than you already are. I’m sorry sweetheart.” He couldn’t help himself, not when Steve looked so small, broken, and hopeless. It made him feel all the more sick when he thought about not being here, taking care of Steve when he was sick because he was so awful to do so himself. He wouldn’t even rest when he had a fever, he’d go ahead and work anyway, and walk home, no matter how gusty or cold it was.

            “What am I gonna do when I’m gone, huh?” he was saying it all out aloud and not even realizing he was doing so. When Steve’s chest hitched loudly, somewhere between a sob and a hiccup he stopped himself. “Stevie…” he started, “I don’t want you doing this anymore. I can’t see you hurt…not while I’m gone” he finally managed to put it into words, “There’s no one here, sweetheart. I-I don’t know if I can handle being gone when I know you’re not going to take care of yourself.”

            “I won’t, I mean I will, I won’t pull that again. I-I honestly didn’t know there was more than one guy. I just heard her hollerin’ for help and I just…went…” Steve gulped, and fuck, yes, he began to cry, his eyes leaking out of control as he turned his head and refused eye-contact. “I’m sorry.”

            Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, and despite Steve’s physical reluctance, he pulled the smaller man into his lap with ease. “No, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to upset you I’m just…worried, that’s all.”

            “I know,” Steve sobbed, and then his arms were wrapping around Bucky’s shoulders and holding tight as he buried his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck. “I’m useless. I’m so useless.”

            “Stevie,” Bucky felt his own chest go tight, “No, no, no, you’re not useless.” He hooked one arm around the bend of Steve’s scrawny knees, the other behind his back and full-body lifted him up from the worn-kitchen floor. “Stop, please stop, I didn’t mean that at all. I’m just worried, that’s all, I promise.” His anxiety had began to take hold, more than he’d care to admit, but as the days ticked closer of him shipping off, the fear of something happening to Steve began to loom.

            This wasn’t the first time this had happened in a span of three weeks. If it wasn’t a scrap Steve had gotten himself into it was an argument with his boss, a cold he left unchecked, a burned hand in the kitchen. It just seemed to be anything Bucky could pick up on that would make him worry.

            Wordlessly he carried him into the bedroom, Steve’s arms locked around him tightly, suddenly kissing him fiercely as though they might both disappear right there in the pale glow of the streetlight. It was another reason to make love, as if they needed an excuse, but Bucky would never question it and since Steve didn’t either he went with it.

            Steve’s face was still damp as he kissed away the tears on his cheek, shedding both their clothes, and as their bodies joined, it was as if in that rare moment of serenity, everything made sense. Nothing could be taken away, nothing could be broken. The sex was frantic and quick, Bucky trying his damndest to be gentle and Steve having nothing of it as he arched his hips and begged for more. Bucky gave Steve anything he asked for, but roughness he wouldn’t allow, so he stroked and kissed until Steve came undone weeping for other reasons, whispered fears between them..

            And much like Bucky had done at the kitchen table, he cleaned them up tenderly, the pressure of his fingertips like butterfly kisses along Steve’s freckled skin. Soft and warm and relaxed as they calmed from fast beating hearts and emotions so thick they could be tasted.

            Then they would sleep, Steve would fall hard, the weak state of his breathing a reminder of the weeks to come.

            “Please don’t leave me,” Steve stuttered, half asleep, voice spent and sounding bruised.

            “You think I’d leave my best guy?” Bucky spoke with a necessary sternness in his voice, pressing kisses to Steve’s tepid forehead. “It’ll all be over before we know it and I’ll be back home. I promise.”

            Bucky only gathered the pushed blankets around them both, listening to the crackling of the fireplace and the pop of the burning stove. He held Steve close as if he might never do so again. But as they lay in fear of what they might lose, Bucky held onto everything he believed they’d gained. Even if it were short lived when he crossed the seas and was so far away from Steve.

 

*******

            **_Present Time_**

****

            Steve was strong. Built. Muscled. No one in their right mind would doubt such a thing, but as Steve readied for the time-machine, Bucky thought of all the times that he wished he could have stepped in. Taken away the pain. Made it easier for Steve, perhaps made him move on to where he never became Captain America. Steve could have all the muscle he wanted, he wasn’t that scrawny kid anymore, not even close, but mentally? He might as well had been. He’d been through so much, things he hadn’t a chance to talk to him about the five years Bucky was gone. But none of that mattered as he watched his long-time lover, best friend, love of his life ready to travel back in time. They hadn’t spoken much, hardly at all, trauma had a way of making that impossible. The forest around him was too much, too much quiet, too much perfect, where Bucky would have ben happy enough to build a home right there, crappy mattress, poor insulation, and wood-burning stove and all. Settled down and lived the rest of his life with Steve.

            But too much time had passed between those times in the kitchen where he’d patch up bruises and split lips. Too much time between soured words, dark alleys, bullies too big where he’d make it all better in the dull light of their bedroom. There was a whole life that Steve could have and not be reminded of the heartache and loss. Did he blame Steve? Not really.

            And here he felt lost. More lost than he’d ever been before. It outweighed his time as the Winter Soldier, outweighed the times he’d been without Steve where he recovered, or tried to, alone. And in Wakanda, where he waited, hoped, prayed that Steve would return, and they could simply pick up where they’d left off.

            It never happened and another war had come and gone. And then another.

            Steve was leaving again. In this moment, he never believed such a fear existed and as much as he wished to speak it, give it life, he simply couldn’t. He murmured words they’d spoken to one another before, half-joking, and only wanting to weep. And to save face around the other two men, he let him go.

            Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, somewhere above the numbing silence of the inevitable, he could hear Sam saying his name or Bruce. He wasn’t sure, he didn’t care. Where was he in this world without Steve? What person could he rely on? Where would he go? In hiding again? Alone again? He had nothing. He had nobody. His past still here but dead in the same breath and thrust farther into a future he once again didn’t understand.

            The unimaginable happened once more.

            There Steve was, blonde hair, wet, blue eyes, cast against a too green forest. Like so many times before his face was marred, a cut above his brow, his lips looking swollen and Bucky couldn’t help himself now anymore than he ever could. His weapon was falling to the grass and he was gathering Steve up into his arms, nearly lifting him off the ground completely. Still, he couldn’t find his breath, this couldn’t be real. Surely there wasn’t a higher-being that had allowed this to happen, and end that he could agree with, had begged for.

            The man in his arms was shaking, violently, and for only a moment he thought Steve might faint.

            Big or not, Steve was hurt, mourning and it didn’t matter for even a second that they mirrored one another in size. He held Steve close as if he were small, kissing along his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, before burying his face in Steve’s sweat-soaked hair. It had been too long since they’d touched like this, and it was too perfect and Bucky thought if he died right there, he’d lived enough.

            And then he was sobbing near out of control, his chest feeling tight and full and he was so terrified that this couldn’t possibly be real. It couldn’t, could it? The solid in his warmth couldn’t be real. It simply couldn’t be.

            Unlike all the other times of crisis, while Bucky struggled to make things right, it was Steve holding _him_ tight, holding _him_ up, murmuring words of comfort and safety and ‘I’ll never leave you again’ and ‘oh baby, I’m here’ and ‘Shhh, we’re together.’

            “Bucky, shhh, I’m here, I’m right here.” Lips were pressed to the side of his neck where he had trapped Steve against him. “It’s over now, we’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to us. Never again, never, never. I’ll never leave you again.”

            It all came barreling back. All the things Bucky had promised, failed, fulfilled and dreams that had fallen through. The promise to return from the war unharmed, to come home.

            As the shield fell to the ground, both of Steve’s arms locked around his waist Bucky felt his soul take a deep, full breath.

            For the first time ever, he felt safe with Steve wrapped around him, whereas it seemed to always be the other way around. However, things were different he felt now that they could take care of one another and if he had to become the nag he always promised he’d be, he’d do it without hesitation.

            It took several long minutes to separate, or at least as much as Bucky would allow, and Steve never hesitated to hold his hand as he explained he’d returned the stones successfully but not with a few run-ins that earned him the small minute injuries. Things that didn’t even sting, Steve swore.

            It didn’t matter, Bucky ignored it all and made Steve sit in one of the chairs by the tent. Wordlessly Bruce handed him a first-aid kit and in a first, Steve was quiet and let Bucky tend to his wounds. Never arguing that ‘it was no big deal’. The longer the silence eked on, the more Bucky felt his loss of control.

            Steve reached across the space between them, cradling Bucky’s face in both hands, “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Everything’s okay, oh don’t cry.” Thumbs were gliding across his cheeks, slick and wet with tears.

            He wasn’t even sure when it had happened that Steve had tugged him out of his own chair, onto the grass, and practically had him in his lap. And Bucky cried. Cried harder than he ever remembered possible. Steve took it all in stride, because of course he did. Steve stroked his back, combed fingers through his hair, and rocking back and forth in a gentle motion that soon enough, once the tears were spent, he began to lull.

            “You didn’t think I’d leave my best guy, now did you?” Steve whispered low against the shell of his ear.

            Bucky tried for a laugh and failed, only sinking further into Steve’s embrace and inhaling as deeply as his lungs allowed.

 

            It was as if no time had passed between them, they wrapped around each other that evening beneath the tent, flesh against flesh as Bucky relearned the inside of Steve’s body, the lull and hum of the country around them Bucky felt as though they finally had a chance. A chance outside the hero work and live a life where it was simply just the two of them.

            No more split lips and bloody hands. Only calm mornings, long nights, held hands and promised comfort.

            They were home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy my therapy in the form of fanfic writing! If you ever have any requests let me know! Please review it makes this little writer so happy!


End file.
